


Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester

by letsRebellamy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Awesome Rowena MacLeod, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Dean's Soul, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecure Dean Winchester, Light Angst, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Post-Canon, Souls, The finale didn't happen, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsRebellamy/pseuds/letsRebellamy
Summary: Cas just needs Dean to see what he sees. To realise how beautiful he really is, inside and out. So he shows him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester

"Your soul, it's so beautiful, Dean." The deep rumble of Castiel’s voice sounds almost reverent. Dean sighs. He can’t take this side of Cas, this part of their relationship that’s just earnest emotions, laid bare, no barriers between them. It’s almost too much to handle.

"I wish I could show you..." Cas trails off, voice going thoughtful at the end.

His hand drops from Dean’s shoulder and it feels like loss.

He shivers.

They keep lying on the rumpled sheets of Dean’s (their shared, really) bed, still wrapped around each other in ways that probably look uncomfortable from the outside.

Cas has a far-away look in his eyes for a moment but when Dean is about to say something Cas blinks, apparently snapping back to the present, cups Dean’s face and gives him a quick kiss.

In one smooth movement he manages to detangle their limbs, rolls away and disappears with a flutter of wings.

With a frustrated groan Dean buries his face in the pillow and silently curses at his angel, hoping Cas can sense his annoyance. 

×××

The whooshing sound of his wings is too loud in the almost empty throne room. The only being present looks at Castiel with only a little surprise, as if she had been expecting a visit any day now.  
“Castiel, to what do I owe the pleasure?” the queen of hell stands up from her throne, striving towards the angel with big steps and open arms. 

“Uh, nice place. Did you renovate?”, he stalls while awkwardly standing in her embrace. This part of their working relationship is still _very_ weird to him.  
When they part from the hug and Rowena looks him over in a weirdly motherly fashion as if to check if he’s eating well, he admits “I need a spell.”  
“Well isn’t Sammy well-versed enough by now to do a little tracking here and there?”  
“It might be a little more complicated than that.”

At that, Rowena raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“Do tell, pretty boy.”

“I want to show Dean his soul.” 

“And why is _that_?”

Castiel hesitates for a moment, maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea, but then he thinks about Dean and the look he gives him every time Cas compliments him.

“I _need-_ he doesn’t understand how _beautiful_ he is and... “ he breaks off with a frustrated sigh.

Rowena coos “Of course I’ll help you, darling. Come now, sit down, I’ll have to look some stuff up.” and pats the damn throne of hell.

After flipping through some truly dusty tomes for a few hours and casually chit chatting with Cas about the Zustand of hell and how ‘the boys’ are doing, she lets out a triumphant “Aha!”  
With a flourish of her hands she draws out a piece of paper and a bright pink pen with a fluffy bobble at the end from seemingly thin air and starts scribbling out a list.

“Go fetch, little bird”, she grins and hands him the list.

Cas yay finally can do sth helpful 

looks at the most obscure list of ingredients

has to hunt down a fucking unicorn and beg it for hair apparently great he’s never been to the fae realm

“Oh you’re back already? That was quick, let me see”  
“I was … motivated.” “Oh I’m sure you were.”

“Don’t tell me that’s the only mirror you could find?”

“I didn’t think the aesthetics of the mirror would impact the spell.” Cas frowns  
With a scoff the witch takes the bag of ingredients from him and gestures for him to place the mirror on a long stone table “Of course not.”  
Under her breath she mutters, “But that ugly gold rim might impact my ability to concentrate.” 

Cas ignores her.

“Alright, let’s get started.”, the witch claps her hands and starts adding ingredients into a mortar.

×××

"...Cas?" Dean asks cautiously. He never knows what to expect when Cas gets like this. Gets some idea into his head and doesn’t even stop to talk about it. Just up and disappears for an unspecified amount of time and when he turns up again he’s got this _look_ in his eyes.

Cas, with a big object wrapped in a ratty old blanket under his arm, just smiles at him in response – that _look_ in his eyes speaking of accomplishment and a kind of smug excitement that makes Dean want to punch and kiss him at the same time. Meanwhile the angel continues towards the one free corner of the room beside the bedside table and sets down the package, leaning it against the wall.

Then he turns to Dean.

"Do you remember when I told you I wished I could show you your soul, Dean?"

"And then you disappeared for a day and wouldn’t tell me where you’ve been? Yeah," Dean scoffs. He doesn’t want to admit it to Cas but that had hurt. A bit. A tiny little bit, not more.

Whenever stuff like that happened he wondered if the angel had finally realised that he didn’t need Dean and would leave again, this time for good.

The rational part of his brain knew that was bullshit but whatever. When had he ever listened to that part anyways? Sure as hell not when he’d confronted Cas after his stupid sacrificial confession and had thrown all caution out the window and kissed the living daylights out of him because he didn’t know how else to communicate his feelings.

Cas seemed to sense his inner turmoil, like he always did, and flew over to him.

Literally-

Didn’t even take the time to walk the two metres. If Dean jumped a little from the sudden noise of his wings, no one needed to know about that.

There was an urgency in his gaze when Cas' hand found his cheek, the other settling at the nape of Dean’s neck, carding through the hair there in a calming gesture that Dean can’t help but lean into.

Dean hadn’t realised he’d been looking anywhere but the angel when he finally looks up and their eyes meet and all of a sudden he’s overwhelmed by emotions when he sees the pure love and excitement radiating from Cas.

The smile on his face has made way for earnest frowning eyebrows. He knows in these situations that he needs to make sure Dean understands how utterly devoted to him he is and there is nothing that could ever change that.

"I love you, Dean.

I am sorry for causing you to worry."

Dean, eyes closing, leans their foreheads together while he lets the words sink in. He will never tire of hearing those words from the being that had quite literally seen him at his worst.

He takes a moment to feel Cas' fingers in his hair and on his face. Calming. Reassuring. Warm. They always help fight his inner demons (hah).

When he opens his eyes again and takes a step back from his boyfriend the teasing smile that overtakes his face isn’t forced at all.

He takes Cas' hand in both of his, "Alright what you got for me, man? Is it Christmas already?"

Cas huffs out a laugh. Leading him over to the rectangular object, still covered in cloth, standing in the corner. He gently positions Dean in front of it, hands gently guiding him by his hip and lower back.

Then he gives him a kiss on the cheek, lips lingering there and whispers, "Don’t freak out, please." His breath ghosts over Dean’s earlobe before moving towards the object.

Before Dean can retort indignantly that _He would certainly not freak out, he’s seen far worse after all_ , Cas pulls the blanket away from the obje- the mirror, it was a mirror hidden beneath - and Dean's breath got stuck somewhere in his throat. With his mouth hanging open for a second before he closes it with a loud _clack_ of teeth.

In the mirror he sees himself, yes. But it’s _more_ than that.

The few times they'd seen actual souls outside of their respective bodies, trapped or on their way to heaven or hell, they'd been these glowing wisps of pure humanity.

The relation is clear to see but while still attached to a living form, his soul looks _different_ too. It’s the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen, glowing and pulsating not to the beat of his heart but something different, unheard.

It almost hurts to look at, even through a mirror.

The wisp/mist/smoke-like substance seems to billow through his whole body, from his head into every fingertip. Though there seems to be more of it around his heart and head. All interconnected but originating from - or protecting, maybe - his most vital points.

After a second too long, Dean finds the ability to breathe again and with the shuddering breath he releases, he can see a tiny wisp of shimmering white light escape too before it gets sucked back in.

He feels like laughing hysterically and sobbing in the corner at the same time.

He can’t take his eyes away from the mirror.

Dean can’t remember the last time he’s voluntarily looked at himself for this long if it wasn’t while stitching up his own wounds. Deep down he knows he’s an objectively good looking guy with a pretty face. People tell him all the time.

But people lie and scheme and he himself just can’t look at himself without seeing all the bad he’s done. All the people he’s killed, betrayed, let down in his lifetime. He doesn’t want to be confronted with that every day so he pushes these emotions down as well as he can for as long as he can until he looks into a mirror again and the facade he’s built shatters.

"Dean?" Cas' voice is cautious and quiet but it still ripped him out of his own head almost violently.

"Cas, I- ," his eyes flick over to the angel then back to himself in the mirror, he licks his dry lip, "Cas why’d you show me this? How is this even possible?" _This can't be my soul,_ he adds in thought.

His soul must be a deep twisted black. He'd been a demon for ~~god’s~~ sake.

Once again Cas takes the step over to him as quickly as possible and steps behind him.

His hands settle on Dean’s hips, grounding the man in the process.

Their eyes meet in the mirror.

"I needed you to see what I see, Dean"

"But how can I-"

"Stop. Don’t ask me why after all you’ve 'done' your soul still shines brighter than any other in this universe.

Don’t ask me why after the things you beat yourself up about your soul radiates the most caring energy of all.

Don't ask me why you are still you.

Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester."

His voice sounds rougher at the end, almost broken up with unspoken emotions that now hang in the air between them. Dean can’t stand it. Can’t stand looking in the mirror anymore. He never knew seeing himself as Cas did would be such a burden.

Why was everything a burden?!

Right then he just wants to turn around and bury himself in Cas' embrace to finally _stop looking_. But the angel stops him, strong arms holding the human in place.

Then he lifts his left hand from Dean’s hip and lays it on his shoulder. His fingers not squeezing, just resting there gently.

The shoulder he had gripped when he'd saved Dean from hell

The shoulder he had laid a claim on what felt like multiple lifetimes ago.

Dean's soul _reacted_.

In an instant the wisps of light were retreating from every part of his body to flow in the direction of Cas' hand, towards the invisible handprint, no longer there but still engraved into his very being.

Like a swarm of fish surging towards the surface of a pond when you throw them some food. The glowing cores near his heart and head looked like they were drawn in too but _couldn’t_ follow. Thin strings of light still connecting them and-

And the _rest_ of Dean’s Soul balling up against his shoulder, against the palm of Cas' hand as if it had been touch starved (which, fair enough).

"I- I can feel it" Dean mutters with a shiver, his voice filled with wonder.

His shoulder steadily grows warmer under Cas' touch and the rest of his body is overcome by a sudden chill as if a window had been opened somewhere in the _bunker_. Of course that only makes him want to lean into the touch even more.

He can’t remember if it always felt like this whenever Cas fleetingly touches or reassuringly grips his shoulder but now that he can visualize it he’s sure he will never forget.

Dean catches Cas staring at where their bodies meet, his gaze definitely possessive and maybe tinged with a _hunger_.

The feelings in Dean’s stomach finally settle. He’s got his regrets but being here, right now, with Castiel by his side after all they’ve been through together, is not one of them. With one last look at the mirror – for now – he turns around in his angel’s arms and does what any sane man would do.

×××

“So where’d ya get that mirror huh?”

“Don’t ever talk to Rowena again, please. She will never let me live this down.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing i've properly written in a few years, i really hope you liked it <3
> 
> shout at me abt ur headcanons on tumblr where we can ignore the finale together @ demondeanlesbian


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